


Rise

by yeaka



Series: Lions [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 10:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21097970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: The morning after.





	Rise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MistressOfLions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressOfLions/gifts).

> A/N: For Mistress of Lions for a donation to the African Wildlife Foundation.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He comes to again in the early hours of the morning, the sun streaming through the tall windows that Regis forgot to curtain off. The dim light is enough to see what’s left of his grand quarters: the shredded fabrics and torn pillows cast all over the room. The nest has been destroyed, the bed with it, and all of it by Nyx’s hand—Regis would never dare harm an omega’s nest. He protects what little remnants are left. He pets Nyx’s spent, sticky body and tries to soothe away the tremors still running through it.

Nyx sighs in his sleep and snuggles closer. He’s a fretful thing, nothing like the demure omegas Regis is used to at court, though he’s just as quiet. He’s seems peaceful when he sleeps, though he squirms, and he woke up countless times to wreck havoc on the room and beg Regis to touch him. Regis obliged every time. Regis feels so sated that he doubts he’ll be able to come again for an entire week, but he made love to Nyx several times over anyway, rousing himself at least enough to harden and fill his pleading omega. The two of them are slick with his spillage, and Nyx’s seed is everywhere—the remaining sheets stick to them, crusty in certain places: the entire suite will need a deep and thoroughly cleaning. But not yet. Regis knows it isn’t over. Nyx’s skin isn’t as scalding as it was last night, but it’s still too warm, and his pheromones still waft out in tempting clouds. Nyx’s entire body doesn’t scream _sex_ anymore, but it’s still sensual, still needy. Regis takes care of it the best he can. He stops petting Nyx only to fetch a drink of water from the nightstand, and then he’s slotting back into Nyx’s arms. 

Nyx stirs, yawning loud as his eyes blink open. He spots Regis, bleary but more lucid. Regis softly thumbs his cheeks and asks, “How are you?”

Nyx’s eyes fall closed again. He turns his face to nuzzle into Regis’ hand, nipping at Regis’ palm, and that says it all: he’s still very much affected. But he manages without slurring, “I’m well, Your Majesty.”

“_Regis_.”

Nyx blinks. He was told before, and he learned for a while—he was screaming Regis’ name by the end. It was a gorgeous sound. Clearly some of his propriety’s weaseled back in, though he’s still fully naked. When he shifts his leg, curling closer to Regis, Regis’ eyes automatically dart down between his legs. His large cock is mostly soft, but not nearly so much as it should be. It seems inhuman that he could go again. He doesn’t press Regis for it, just snuggles against Regis’ chest. 

He sucks in a shuddering breath, then mutters, “I apologize, Regis.”

“Apologize?” Regis can’t imagine what for; he had the time of his life. The only downside is the mess, which he’ll likely help clean up himself—it would be cruel to inflict such a scene on his maids. But even that was well worth the fun. Nyx’s eyes flicker away, focusing anywhere but Regis.

Regis can guess the problem. Nyx was similarly pragmatic the first time that they slept together, when Regis had invited him for a congratulatory dinner and one thing had led to another. He’d never _meant_ to take his best soldier to bed, but in their own stoic way, it’d been hard to resist. Regis had felt a lingering sense of connection, compatibility that ran deeper than titles. But Nyx had left in the morning, exiting with a formal bow. 

Regis’ bed felt cold the night after that. He knows it will again after this. But he makes it clear, “You have done nothing wrong, Nyx Ulric. You are welcome here any time.”

Nyx’s gaze slowly returns to him, wary. Regis clarifies: “My home. My bed. My _arms_. I was honoured that you came to me.”

Nyx’s brow furrows. He actually looks surprised by that, which seems absurd, given what a catch he is. Regis is quite sure he has a plethora of suitors, and Regis couldn’t possibly top that. He might be the king, but he’s also old and his body’s failing. Nyx is a young tiger that could still have anything he wanted. 

He opens his mouth and closes it a few times. While he’s doing that, Regis leans over and grabs the blanket hanging over the edge. He pulls it up over them—their bodies are cooling down again, and it doesn’t seem like they’re going to immediately warm up the way they’ve been doing all night. As Regis tenderly tucks them in, Nyx slowly explains, “My suppressants... they don’t seem to be working as well as they need to. So... I might need...”

He trails off, and Regis provides: “This?”

Nyx frowns. Regis smiles and understands. “I know you don’t mean to say that this is only a necessity.”

“No, of course not...”

“If you are wondering if this might be possible again, I’m telling you it is. I would even look forward to it. ...And I would tell you that you needn’t be in heat to come.”

Nyx’s cheeks darken beyond the usual heat-flush. For a moment, Regis thinks he’s going to fight it, try to establish formalities again or maybe insist it stay a need. But then he murmurs, “I’m honoured.”

That makes two of them. Regis can’t help his smile. It encourages Nyx to smile back, which drives Regis to lean forward and give him a gentle kiss.

Nyx’s eyes stay closed when Regis pulls away. Nyx lets out a long breath. Regis rubs his shoulder and asks, “Now, what can I do for you?”

“I feel empty,” Nyx mumbles. “Please take me again.”

Regis kisses him and does.


End file.
